last thoughts of a broken angel
by shiksa goddess
Summary: Crime of passion, my ass./ Beck lives in a world without Jade.


**A/N This was inspired " Firearms and Famous Last Words" by nails on a chalkboard, which is amazing times infinity and you should really go read it instead of this wannabe.**  
><strong>If you dare, carry on. And I know I never explained how he got caught or how the body was found, it's not important. <strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Victorious, nor do I feel like coming up with a creative/cool disclaimer.**

You'd say it was an accident

/  
>"A crime of passion" They call it when they write the reports.<br>You swig a beer. If it was out of passion, you certainly wouldn't have shot her twice.

/

"Bang!" The pistol shoots a silver deathtrap at her head with a satisfying noise. As soon as you pull the trigger,your head laughs,your heart races,and your hands freeze.  
>Her face is forever frozen in a scream<p>

"Beck,No!"

The screams are just encouragement to your sick little mind.

/  
>Black mixes with crimson on the floor of her basement.<br>You know you should do something, call 911, but instead you stand there. Stand there,overwhelmed with" What the hell did I do?'s and Don't I love her?"  
>Should't you be saying" didn't I love her?"<p>

Crime of passion,my ass. You just wanted her gone, and you didn't have a better way out.  
>Never take the path of least resistance.<p>

You spend most of the trial observing .  
>You see Jade's mother,who's crying. (It's your fault) Then Jade's father, who utterly doesn't care. You want to be disgusted with him, but you're too disgusted with yourself.<br>Then you see your own parents, which is so much different. All your life you tried to please them by getting straight A's and team captain and lead roles,and they looked at you with big,shiny smiles and complete adoration and they told all their friends about their wonderful son, Beck.

Their son Beck, the murderer.

You plead 'not guilty' and they obviously see through your thick veil of filthy lies.  
>You're transferred to federal prison and they debate if you should get a life sentence,as you're "only" a minor.<br>But even though you SHOULD be out getting stoned and drunk and not giving a shit, you're sitting in a courtroom, praying that you'll still have a life.  
>Unlike Jade, you think.<p>

/  
>You do get a life sentence. It's only fair that they take away your life. (You took hers.)<br>But you're still breathing, still living, still reminiscing on the one bullet that took two lives.

/

The prison cell is truly disgusting. A small toilet, small cot. It doesn't begin to fit you're guilt, and disgust.  
>And to think you've only got the rest of you're life in here.<p>

/  
>A small envelope is slipped through the bars of your cell. It looks about a year old, which is possible, as you've been in here for 13 years.<br>The letter is from Tori Vega. It's written in careful hand.  
><em><strong><br>Beck,**_  
><em><strong>I know you did it. I'm sorry you did. But,Beck, this doesn't change anything. I still love you. I have,since the first day I met you.<strong>_  
><em><strong><br>Even though you can't have coffee anymore, I hope you realize that you still have someone that would rub it off your shirt. But I also wanted to thank you. You've let me move on. **_  
><em><strong><br>I spent most of high school yearning for you,something out of my reach. It took you shooting Jade for me to stop wanting your mystery, and reach for something solid. Something golden. Which is why,even though it's impossible for you to come, I want you to know you are "cordially invited to the wedding of Victoria Miranda Vega and André Charles Harris". **_  
><em><strong><br>It's weird,right? Me and André? So much has changed since high school. Jade's body is at Hollywood National. Cat and Robbie got married, had 1 miscarriage and 1 child- a girl named 're in the middle of a divorce. **_  
><em><strong><br>I'm a lawyer, go figure. André's still a composer. **_  
><em><strong><br>I feel sad for you. All of us are growing up, experiencing life, and you're stuck there. Never changing. I'm sorry. But you're not a murderer,Beck. I don't know what went wrong. Maybe Jade was asking for it. **_  
><em><strong><br>I've enclosed a poem. It's called" Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost. It was in the Outsiders. Remember when made us read that? Well it reminded me of you. I want you to read it.**_  
><em><strong>Stay gold, Beck. Don't let the world forget you.<strong>_  
><em><strong>Tori<strong>_

Tears dripped down your face as you pulled out a piece of copy paper, printed with the poem.

_Nature's first green is gold_  
><em>Her hardest hue to hold.<em>  
><em>Her early leaf's a flower<em>  
><em>But only so an hour<em>  
><em>Then leaf subsides to leaf<em>  
><em>Edan sinks to grief<em>  
><em>And dawn sinks down to day<em>  
><em>Nothing gold can stay<em>

You fold the paper and slip it under your pillow, thinking about how gold Tori always will be and how tarnished Jade was.  
>But somehow, Jade's bleak composition was so much brighter than Tori's gold.<p>

/  
>You think you wish you hadn't done it. If that trigger hadn't been pulled, Jade would be alive, and you would both be doing your own things, together or seperate.<p>

/  
>It pains you to remember that day.<br>One beer too many. That gun was in Dad's strongbox for a reason.  
>You took it, intending to see Jade shortly after.<p>

You drove to her house, head hammered, praying no one would catch you.  
>She didn't see it. She didn't know her 'perfect' boyfriend was going to end her life that day.<p>

"Jade. I think we need to end things."

"What? Beck, are you drunk, or high, or something? Because I love you, and you love me, why would there be a need to end things?"

"I just think it's time."  
><em><br>Bang! Bang!_  
>One to the head, one to the heart.<p>

In another 5 years, Tori sends pictures. Her and André's daughter, Cat's new brown hair, and Jade's grave.  
>You thought it would mention how unfairly she was taken by a horrible, murderous man, but all it said was<br>Jadelynn Bryce West  
>December 13,1993-December 13,2011<br>A loving, devoted woman. Dearly missed.  
>You shot her on her 18th birthday. The day she obtained total freedom, you took it all away.<p>

/  
>You'd say it was an accident.<br>But that would be a lie.

**A/N Poignant, right? No? Yeah, screw that. Review!**


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